


As our bodies bruise.

by euthasia



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absent John Winchester, Bad Parent John Winchester, Blood and Injury, Child Neglect, Dean Winchester Feels, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Hurt Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Character Death, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Sam Winchester, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Protective Siblings, Sibling Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-10-03 19:16:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17289845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euthasia/pseuds/euthasia
Summary: Every time Dean was questioned about his father– by the police, by the school, by the Social Services…– he never actually had to lie. They all looked at him, saw the bruises on his body, saw the haunted look in his eyes, and wanted to know if John was being violent. If he was beating him.Dean always laughed in their faces . It was not his father’s fault if his life was a mess, if he was screwed in the head, if he always ended up bloody at the end of the day.And how could it be? After all, John wasn’t even there. He never was.





	1. Genesis.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, and welcome!
> 
> First of all, English is not my first language and I don't have a beta. Please feel free to point out any mistakes or typos! 
> 
> This is my first time writing for the Supernatural Fandom and it's also my first time posting a chaptered story on this website. I've been working on this for a while (you can find more about what inspired me in the End Notes), and I'd love to get some feedback, to know if my ideas are any good and if I should keep writing. 
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

After Mary’s death, John didn’t immediately leave town. Many people expected him to; however, suddenly becoming a single dad of two made him revalue his job, his friends and the compassion of the authorities after the incident. All of that wouldn’t exist outside of Lawrence, so he stayed. 

He tried to act normally, or as normally as a grieving man could be expected to. Dean had just started kindergarten, so he found a Daycare Centre for Sammy and then hired a nanny named Anne, who would take care of the brothers in the late afternoon and evening, while he was at work. 

Money was an issue. In order to pay for the repairs of the house and for the new expenses, he picked up some extra shifts at the garage, not minding the manual labour, as it helped him to free his mind; however, he knew that would reduce the time he could spend with his kids. He missed them, just like he missed Mary and the way life had been. 

His days passed in a mayhem of things to organize and appointments to attend, but when he tried to fall asleep at night, weary and exhausted, he still couldn’t escape from the haunting images of blood and flames that flashed in front of his eyes. The things he’d seen… It was no wonder that he so often found solace in a glass of whiskey before bed. 

 

***

 

John had been so busy trying to reorganize his life, that he didn’t even realise that Dean had stopped speaking until Miss Grace, Dean’s teacher, pointed it out to him. John had let the kid remain at home with Anne for a couple days after the funeral, but he’d urged his boy to go back to class soon after; also because he really couldn’t pay Anne for that many hours a day anymore. 

When he got called at the school not even three days later, he almost regretted that decision. 

He told Miss Grace not to worry, that Dean was just a bit shaken and that they’d deal with it by themselves. But then Anne asked to talk to him too. 

«At first I thought he might be just a little shy and frightened, but it’s been two weeks and he still hasn’t said a single word to me…» She complained worriedly. «John, dear, have you considered getting an opinion from a professional?»

Despite all the gratefulness he felt for her, John almost laughed in her face. Like they could afford a trip to the shrink. Dean had always been a little quiet, after all; very polite and well behaved. After what they’d been through, he didn’t find it all that strange that the kid would want a little peace. 

John knew how tempting a moment of quietness could feel right then, when it was getting harder and harder for him to attribute the things he’d seen in the nursery to shock and post-traumatic stress. 

 

***

 

Then, one night John found himself wide awake, looking through some old stuff that Mary had buried in the darkest corner of their basement at the very beginning of their marriage. She’d told him it was just some of her dad’s books and other useless things that she couldn’t find the heart to give away, and John had never even opened those boxes out of respect. But that particular night he could still hear Mary scream in his ears, and he felt like he’d go crazy, if he didn’t occupy his brain somehow. He couldn’t even recall how he’d come up with the idea of rummaging through that stuff, but he thought it’d be a harmless way to pass some time. Maybe he’d find some photo albums, some sport trophies, or some thriller novels coming right from the 50s, he told himself. 

What he didn’t expect to discover was a very ancient looking manual that listed off hundreds of mythical creatures, and, apparently, many ways to kill each of them. 

«I’m too sober for this shit.» He groaned, bringing the book to the living room and proceeding to pour himself a whiskey, not knowing how many times that exact same thought would pop into his mind for the following decades.


	2. Evanidus.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An insight into the Winchesters' new life, through Dean's eyes.

Dean started speaking again around the time Sammy said his first word, three or four months after the accident. 

He and Sammy had always been good at understanding each other without words, so Dean had never thought there would be a problem with that. But as Sammy grew he started to get louder, babbling more and more, until one day a real word came out of his mouth. And it was not “Daddy”, it was not “Anne”. It was Dean’s name. 

And even if the thought of speaking made him queasy, Dean knew that it was his job to keep Sammy happy. So, if his baby brother wanted to speak with him, he had to find his voice again.

For the first couple of weeks it was anxiety inducing, every sentence weighting right on his stomach, but it got easier with time. Sammy was so smart, and he loved pointing things out so that his big brother could tell him what they were called; and since Dean himself missed the way Mommy would sing or read to him before bed, he paid attention that Sammy got as many goodnight stories and songs as he could think of. 

 

***

 

Dean could see that his Daddy was proud of him for overcoming his fear. Daddy praised him for making the right choice, hugging him so tight that Dean felt his heart jump in his chest; then, Daddy told him that now that they could communicate better, he could finally be trusted to be a big boy and help around the house a bit. Dean felt delighted, and took on the new responsibilities with energy and passion, wanting to show Daddy how great he could be– and maybe hoping to get some extra hugs too.

It started with a couple chores, like making his bed in the morning and cleaning Sammy’s toys when they got dirty. Then he started tidying up his own room, since he was the one who always made it messy in the first place, and eventually began cleaning Sammy’s nursery too, because he was spending so much time in it anyway. 

After a while, since Sammy was so obedient with him and nothing made him happier than playing with his big brother, Daddy taught Dean how to put him down for his naps, and how to change his diapers, just in case there was an emergency and he or Anne couldn’t be there.

Dean enjoyed it. It was a bit tiring, sure, but Daddy was trusting him a lot and that made him feel all warm inside, like he was being a good boy. Daddy never actually told him that, but he also let him keep his chores so he must not be disappointed. And Sammy… Dean loved his baby brother more than anything else in the whole world. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to keep him safe. 

Slowly, Daddy became busier and busier and he started cutting back his hours at the garage to do more research. He never told Dean what he was researching, but it must’ve been really important, because Dean wasn’t even allowed to touch the big books that now occupied most of their living room. Sure, sometimes Dean felt a little lonely and scared, especially when he woke up from nightmares at night or when he really really wanted his Daddy to hold him for a bit, but he understood that Daddy was not ignoring him on purpose. It was just that his work was super important, that was all.

Anne also stopped coming by around that time. Daddy said it was because he was becoming so good at taking care of Sammy, that no one else was needed to do it. That made Dean feel like the best big brother in the world. 

However, sometimes he missed her. Missed the way she’d buy him chocolate, the way she’d give him toy cars to play with (even though she had to keep those hidden because they had little parts that Sammy could eat if he found them), and the way she sometimes would hug him tight and sing to him. 

She was also very good with Sammy, always guessing when he wanted a nice bottle to drink and never having any problems to calm him down when he was fussy. Daddy didn’t care much about snacks, though, so Dean thought it would be useful to learn how to prepare Sammy’s bottles himself, too. 

When Daddy noticed how good he was at that, he added feeding Sammy to the list of his chores. Dean didn’t mind it one bit. 

 

***

 

Slowly, they all settled into a routine. Daddy would wake him and Sammy up in the morning, he would cook them breakfast and then he’d send them upstairs to get dressed. Dean always spent a good ten minutes cleaning his brother’s face and hands after breakfast, because he knew Sammy would be going to Daycare, and he wanted Mrs Joanne to see that his baby brother was well taken care of.

Then, they all went out. Dean and Daddy drove to the Daycare Centre, always a couple minutes early, because most days Sammy cried when he had to leave them. He’d scream: «Dee, Dee!» so loudly that Mrs Joanne usually chuckled and told Daddy how amazing it was that they were so affectionate with each other. 

Then Daddy drove Dean to school, and left for work. Dean loved school, even more so now that he was talking again. Everyone was nice to him and he could spend his time colouring and learning how to count and write, so that then he could teach Sammy once it was time. His teacher, Miss Grace, was very kind, and she always had a lovely smile on her face. She never scolded Dean for colouring outside the lines, or for being loud if he dropped his pencils; instead she often told him how well behaved he was, or how smart. He beamed at the praise and always felt his heart double in size. 

He also loved playing in the park at recess and got incredibly sad every time they had to go back inside. Sometimes he almost felt like crying, but his Daddy always told him that crying was bad and that as a big boy he should learn to control himself, so he never shed a tear, not even that time when he fell and scraped his knee and had to be super brave while Miss Grace cleaned him up. 

But even though he loved school, he also loved it when Daddy came to pick him up and bring him home to Sammy. Daddy never stayed long; most of the time he immediately ran back out to go to the library or to a friend’s house, not before reminding Dean of his chores and leaving a small kiss on Sammy’s head. Dean sometimes felt jealous because he too would’ve liked a kiss, but he told himself not to be silly. Sammy was a baby, of course he needed more kisses.

Dean would then prepare a snack for his little brother and fed it to him, or tried to teach Sammy how to feed himself. Once Sammy’s tummy was full of milk and banana he felt the sleepiest, so Dean knew to pick him up and walk around a bit, sweetly narrating his day to keep him relaxed and ignoring the pain in his back. Sammy was a cute chubby baby, whereas Dean was getting skinny for his age, so he had to work hard to bounce the kid without losing his grip. 

When Sammy finally closed his eyes Dean usually laid him down on his playpen, covered him with his blankie, and then started to clean up the kitchen. That was not one of the chores that Daddy had given him explicitly, but he always got grumpy if he found dishes in the sink or crumbs on the floor, so Dean figured it was better to get everything in order just to be sure. He’d also just learned how to use the washing machine; it made him feel super smart and just a little bit like his Mommy. 

After an hour or so, Sammy would wake up crying. Dean hated it when his baby brother cried, so he immediately ran to the playpen and got him out with a kiss on his snotty nose. They played together for a while, Sammy stacking blocks one over the other and Dean helping him. Dean also wanted to work on Sammy’s first steps, since his brother still swayed whenever he tried to stand. They played catch and had tickle fights and pretended to be wild lions crawling on the floor, giggling and roaring loudly. They were happy together. 

Sure, Dean sometimes got bored of those games; he would’ve liked to play some football with his Daddy, and he missed finger painting with his Mommy. But Sammy looked so happy during playtime, and if Sammy was happy then everything was okay, Dean could make a small sacrifice for his little brother. That way, Daddy got to come home to a clean house and a content baby every evening, and Dean felt his heart squirm in his chest when he thought that Daddy must be really proud of him. Sure, maybe Daddy didn’t always show it, but that was because he was sad that Mommy had gone up in heaven, so his emotions sometimes became all dark and scary. 

Dean just had to try his hardest, and then he would make everything perfect for his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> I really hope you liked this chapter. I loved writing it for sure. 
> 
> In the first one I mostly talked about John; here I wanted to continue the story but through Dean's eyes, so I tried really hard to adapt my vocabulary and syntax to the thoughts of a four/five years old, without sounding like an illiterate ahahah. 
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed it or not, and if you liked the story so far!  
> Have a nice day/night (:


	3. Cruor.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even though Dean was trying his best, sometimes accidents happened. Some were more serious than others.

Of course, sometimes accidents happened. 

There was that time Dean accidently dyed all their socks pink while doing laundry, or that time when he put too much jelly in his PBJ and made a mess of his shirt. Once Sam disappeared on him, and Dean almost had a heart attack before finding him hidden behind the couch. 

Some accidents were more serious than others. 

One evening, Sam took the lid off his sippy cup and poured juice all over Dean’s homework. He had a sheet of words he needed to learn how to spell, and he was working very hard on it; thus, when he saw it all sticky and stained, his first instinct was to scream at Sammy. 

It was the first time he’d ever raised his voice. The startled look in Sammy’s eyes made him feel guilty and terrible and like his heart was falling low into his belly. When he went to pick his brother up to say sorry the baby recoiled, crying out with high pitched screams, and Dean stopped dead in his tracks. 

That was, of course, when Daddy ran into the room, stormy eyes looking right at Dean. 

«What the hell is happening here?» He said. «You know I don’t want to be disturbed when I’m reading!»

Dean tried to explain, but the words suddenly got lost inside his throat and he felt tears swelling up in his own eyes. «I’m sorry.» He whispered. He knew Daddy hated loud noises and it was his fault that Sammy was crying, after all. He looked at Daddy as he knelt down and took Sammy into his harms, bouncing him a bit, murmuring quick reassurances. 

«You can go to your room, and I don’t want to hear another sound, do you understand?» Daddy said, talking to Dean but not really looking at him anymore. Dean nodded, voice lost, and ran up to his bed, feeling like all the air had been sucked out of the room. He buried his face into his pillow as he heaved breath after breath, trying to deal with his Daddy’s disappointment. 

He’d been bad, so bad that Daddy had to send him away. He needed to be more obedient, he needed to be quieter, he needed to be smarter, he needed to be better. Otherwise Daddy and Sammy might decide they didn’t really need him anymore, and leave him behind like you do with broken, unwanted things. 

 

***

 

The worst accident happened roughly one month after the juice episode. 

It had been a nice afternoon. Sammy had slept soundly during his nap and now he was crawling around under Dean’s watchful eyes, while Dean himself was cleaning up a couple dishes that Daddy had left in the sink after his lunch. The dishes were big and slippery between his hands, so he knew he needed to give the job all his attention, but at the same time he couldn’t just let Sammy unsupervised. His baby brother loved putting things into his mouth and hiding in the cabinets, and while it was cute, Dean knew it could be dangerous too. Sometimes he felt really drained after hours and hours of carefulness. 

A moment of distraction was enough; the baby happily called for his brother’s attention, clapping his hands and mumbling something intelligible, and Dean of course looked up at him because he knew being ignored didn’t feel good, so he lost his grip on the plate, which fell down on the floor with a scary crashing sound. 

Immediately attracted by the noise, Sammy began crawling forward to the mess, eyes set on a shiny piece of ceramic. Dean’s heart skyrocketed. He felt panic rise in his throat and immediately ran to his baby brother, picking him up and getting him securely into his playpen, panting from the fright. 

It was only after that Dean realised he’d stepped right on the remains of the plate. 

The pain hit him all at once and he felt his head begin to spin. Sammy started crying from the playpen, and the noise made him panic even more. He needed Daddy, he needed him immediately!

But when he tried to call him, the phone rung and rung and then went to voicemail. He tried again, a little desperate and dizzy, but no one picked up. Sammy was still crying and he’d left a trail of blood on the carpet and Daddy was going to be disappointed, so so disappointed when he got home. 

Then Dean remembered a lesson he’d learned at school, and picked up the phone once again to dial 911. A man’s voice answered.

«911, what’s your emergency?» The voice said.

«I broke a plate and now my foot is hurt and Sammy won’t stop crying!» Dean screamed. He felt like he was going to cry too. He heard the man murmur something that he couldn’t understand, then the voice came back loud and clear. 

«Oh. Okay. Kid, I need you to take a deep breath for me, alright? Can you tell me your name?» The man said, a lot softer than before. Dean breathed in once, then let it out, and was startled when a big sob came out of his mouth. He wanted to be good, though, so he told his name to the man. 

«That’s great, Dean. My name’s Michael. I need you to tell me what’s going on, alright?» The man– Michael said. Dean nodded, even though he knew it was silly to nod on the phone. 

«I was distracted and the plate I was washing fell and I hurt my foot and now there’s lots of blood! And it hurts!» Dean explained. He could almost hear Daddy’s voice in his mind, telling him that only babies whined like that. But the pain was too much and Dean was too scared to care that he was being a baby. 

«Thank you Dean. Now I need you to tell me where you are, okay? So I can send a doctor to help you with your injury.» Michael said. «Do you know your address?»

«I know that!» Dean exclaimed, and proceeded to spell out the name of his street, suddenly proud of himself for having such a good memory and for working hard on his spelling. 

«That’s amazing, you’re helping me a lot. You’re a smart kid, Dean. The doctor is on his way, but I want you to remain on the phone with me until he arrives, okay?» Michael praised him. Dean felt all warm inside, and finally felt his panic lessen knowing that soon someone would come for him. He breathed in and out a couple times, trying to get his heart to calm down, and then he suddenly remembered the most important thing.

«Can’t stay here though, Sammy is crying!» Dean protested, surprised that Michael hadn’t gotten it the first time he’d given the information. Everyone had to know that it was important to hold Sammy when he cried, because he was a baby and that was what babies needed. 

«Who’s Sammy? Is he hurt too?» Michael asked. 

«Sammy is my brother! And he’s not hurt ‘cause I don’t let him get hurt ever! I’m a good big brother!» Dean exclaimed, almost offended.

«Yeah, I bet you are the best big brother, Dean. How old is he?» Michael said. Despite feeling absolutely overjoyed thanks to the praise, Dean also noticed a shift in Michael’s voice, that now sounded a bit like Daddy’s when he knew Dean had done something silly but wouldn’t admit it. 

«He’s a baby! Daddy says he’ll be one year old very soon and we’ll have a party then.» Dean answered. He would’ve said more, since the topic was one he was very passionate about, but his foot was really hurting a lot and all the blood was making him feel more and more shaky and nauseated. 

«And how old are you, Dean?» Michael asked, apparently not very interested in Sammy’s birthday party. Dean could feel his voice change into something he really didn’t like, but he wanted to be good so he told him he was five.

«Where’s your dad, Dean? Or your mom? Are you home alone?» Michael asked. 

«I’m not alone, I told you I’m with Sammy!» Dean repeated, starting to feel confused. He knew that there was something he was missing, but he couldn’t understand what it was and it made him nervous. 

He was saved by a loud thumping on the front door. He immediately told Michael that someone was knocking and Michael told him to go answer, since it probably was the ambulance coming to help him. When Dean got to the door, awkwardly jumping on one foot and trying not to leave any more bloody stains on the pavement, he was greeted by a young man with a white coat and another man with weird green clothes. 

«I guess you’re Dean, right? I’m Doctor Ethan. This is Sarah, she’s a nurse. I’ve been told that your foot is hurt?» The young man said. Dean nodded, feeling shy, and just raised his foot slowly, trying to show his cuts. Sarah winced, while Doctor Ethan immediately knelt down to see better. 

«Is it okay for us to come in? We’ll patch you up real quick, I promise.» The doctor said, voice soft. Dean nodded, ready to jump his way to the living room, and was surprised when Doctor Ethan just hoisted him up with one arm and carried him to the couch. Dean hadn’t been held like that in a while, and he couldn’t suppress a startled squeal. It was so high up there!

«Sammy is in the playpen. I need to get him ‘cause he was scared and he’ll be lonely!» Dean immediately said. «And Michael is on the phone!» Doctor Ethan smiled at him, but the smile didn’t really go all the way up to his eyes. 

«Sarah will go tell Michael that we’ve got it covered, alright?» At those words, the nurse immediately went to the phone and started speaking fast into it. Dean couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she didn’t seem happy. Something about “no one around” and “he’s fucking five, it’s a miracle he’s not hysteric”.

In the meanwhile, Doctor Ethan walked to the playpen and finally freed Sammy, who was not used to being ignored for so long and had gotten red in the face after all the crying he’d done. 

«Hey there, baby, that was scary wasn’t it? But everything’s okay, everything’s going to be fine.» Doctor Ethan murmured, making Dean feel better as well. Sammy, however, kept on calling for his brother, until the doctor relented and slowly lowered the baby in Dean’s lap, ready to support him in case Dean wasn’t able to get a good grip. Of course, nothing like that happened; Sammy just launched himself into Dean’s arms and snuggled into his chest, finally content. Dean himself let out a sigh, leaving a kiss on Sammy’s head. He was the best baby in the world. 

«So it’s like that, uh?» Doctor Ethan commented. «Now that you’re both settled, I’m going to give a look at your injury. I’m going to ask you questions and I need you to answer me the best you can, alright? And you should tell me if it hurts, it’s okay if you need to stop.» Dean nodded, immediately adding: «It hurts.» The doctor chuckled, leaving him a bit clueless. 

Doctor Ethan was very patient and kind. He explained what he was doing step after step: taking away all the nasty pieces of ceramic, cleaning up the cuts so they didn’t get infected, and wrapping it all up with white gauze. Doctor Ethan also said that Dean needed sutures, a word that he didn’t know and that basically meant he needed to get his skin sewed back together; they couldn’t do that there on the couch because it wasn’t as clean as it should be. It sounded incredibly scary, but Dean had Sammy in his lap and he knew that the baby would pick up on his stress if he showed it, so he tried to remain calm and be good. 

The main problem arose when Doctor Ethan started talking about Daddy, asking all kinds of questions, from where he was and how to reach out for him, to how often he left Dean and Sammy home alone. Dean tried to answer the best he could, but he always felt like he was saying the wrong thing. When he explained that Daddy didn’t leave all that often, only three or four hours in the afternoon, he could see Doctor Ethan’s eyes becoming darker and darker. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong!

After a while Sammy started squirming, gently patting on Dean’s cheek. 

«What’s up Sammy?» Dean asked, immediately losing any kind of interest for the doctor. «Do you want your baba? It’s early still!» But when Sammy just kept on squirming, letting out a small whine, Dean moved on to the next set of questions. 

«Are you wet, baby?» Dean asked. Sammy babbled back to him, smiling. So that was it! He needed to change his brother’s diaper. He looked up to Doctor Ethan and told him so, already moving Sammy out of his lap so that he could jump down the couch. His foot was hurting less already. He picked Sammy up again and limped up the stairs to the nursery. Doctor Ethan followed him, but he was nice so Dean thought it was okay. 

The Doctor just stood there silently while Dean changed Sammy’s diaper. Dean felt a little bit nervous, because what if Doctor Ethan thought he was doing something wrong? But Sammy looked happy and didn’t even move while Dean cleaned and powdered him, that’s how good he was. Soon Sammy was clean and comfy in a fresh diaper and a soft pair of tiny sweatpants. 

Dean felt so proud of his success that, when he looked up and saw the angry look in Doctor Ethan’s eyes, his heart almost broke in half. He still didn’t know what he’d been doing wrong the whole time and he hated not knowing, because then he had no way of making it better. 

Doctor Ethan didn’t seem to have as many doubts, just lead them back to the living room. 

«We’re taking them both to the hospital, and I hope that the Social Services will get there before Winchester does.» Doctor Ethan told Sarah, so low that Dean almost didn’t hear it. He probably wasn't supposed to. 

What? They were going to the hospital without Daddy? What was happening? Were they going to take Sammy? They couldn’t take Sammy from him! What had he done wrong? 

Dean’s last thought before being picked up and brought inside the ambulance was that Daddy was going to be so mad at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> I want to thank all of you for the kudos and the comments you've left so far. The support is always appreciated! 
> 
> Please let me know if you like this chapter, if you like where the story is going and if there are things you think I should change or improve. 
> 
> Have a nice day :)


	4. Corruptorius.

Dean was sitting in a white room. There was a woman with him. She’d said her name was Claudia and she’d been trying to make him talk for a while. Dean wanted to answer, but the voices coming from outside the room kept distracting him. 

He could hear his Daddy screaming: «He’s a kid, of course it’s gonna seem like hours to him whenever I leave the house for five minutes!»

«Dean? Are you with me?» Claudia asked. He nodded. «Great. So, I was told you’re in kindergarten, is that right?» He nodded again. 

«Do you like it?» Claudia pressed. Dean tried to forget about his Daddy outside, about Doctor Ethan and the screams of “I never told him to wash my fucking dishes, who do you think I am?”. He breathed in, squirming in his chair. He tried to speak, but the words never came out, so he gave a third nod, defeated, looking at his feet and wiggling his toes. Doctor Ethan had put a Batman band-aid on top of the bandages. 

«Do you think you can tell me something about it?» Claudia said. Her voice was very soft and gentle, and she reminded him of Miss Grace. Dean told her, and that made her smile very wide. Dean liked it when people smiled at him, because it usually meant he wasn’t doing anything wrong, and that made him feel safer. 

«We do lots of things. I like colouring, and reading, and going on the swing. And Miss Grace says I’m very smart!» Dean explained, looking cautiously at Claudia while he talked. The smile stayed on. 

«That’s really great, Dean. So you like the swings, uh? Do you also like going to the playground?» Was the next question. Well, at least that one was easy to answer, Dean thought to himself.

«Yeah! Me and Daddy and Sammy go to the park on Sunday and Daddy helps Sammy go on the big slide ‘cause he’s a baby and he can’t do it alone, but I’m a big boy and I can! And Sammy loves the sand pit but then he gets all dirty and we have to have a bath after.» Dean ended up breathless at the end of the sentence, and that made Claudia chuckle. She seemed to be enjoying his stories, and that made Dean feel very important. 

«And how does your Daddy act when you get dirty like that and need a bath?» Claudia asked. That sounded like a very silly question.

«Daddy doesn’t know! It’s a secret between me and Sammy.» Dean said, snickering. But as the words left his mouth, he saw Claudia’s smile falter for just a second, and suddenly realised what he’d just revealed. «Not like a real secret though! We always tell Daddy when we’re done! It’s not against the rules!»

«It’s okay Dean, you don’t have to worry. I was just thinking that it must be hard for you to bathe your baby brother without help. You know, I used to have baths with my baby sister and she just wouldn’t sit still! Always eating soap as soon as I turned my eyes away.» Claudia clarified, laughing a bit at the end. Dean’s eyes got wide, and he too giggled. 

«Sammy’s silly too. He splashes me all the time! But it’s fine because he’s not trying to be mean.» He explained. «It’s not hard. Sammy loves baths.»

«I’m glad that he does.» Claudia paused, then renewed the smile on her lips and started again. «You talked about rules before, can you tell me something more about them?»

«They’re the rules that if I don’t follow them then I’m being naughty! Like don’t make Sammy cry or don’t use the oven when Daddy is out, or, or clean up my room when I’m messy.» Dean affirmed. 

«What about Sammy? Are there rules for him too?» Claudia asked. Now, that was super silly. Sammy was just a baby, what kind of rules could he have? Dean felt shy correcting her, but her smile didn’t falter when he did. That was good.

«So, what about rules concerning Sammy. You know, rules deciding when he eats or gets his naps and things like that. Does your Daddy have a plan for these things?» Claudia rectified. 

«Yeah, me and Daddy have a plan! It’s very important that Sammy gets his snacks and naps because if he doesn’t he might get sad. It’s the most important rule: Sammy shouldn’t be sad.» Dean explained. Despite having a little sister, Claudia didn’t seem to know much about babies, he thought. She kept asking obvious questions! 

« You seem pretty involved into taking care of your baby brother, Dean. I’m sure you’re great at it and it’s clear that he loves you a lot.» Claudia told him carefully, like she was testing the waters. Dean didn’t care. What she’d said sounded like the most beautiful praise in the world and he felt all warm inside. What she added next made him freeze, though. 

«But what about when it’s just you? I’d like you to tell me something about yourself that doesn’t include your brother.» Dean didn’t know what to say. 

«C’mon, whatever comes to your mind. A game you play when you’re alone? A song that you like? A food that you hate? There’s no wrong answer here.» Claudia encouraged him. Bud Dean never played alone, never sang alone, never cooked just for himself. Whatever he did, he did it with Sammy, and for Sammy; wasn’t that how it was supposed to be? 

«I don’t like strawberries.» He murmured in the end. Claudia seemed content with his answer, and wrote something down on her computer before moving on with her interrogation. He couldn’t look up anymore.

It was a lie that he didn’t like strawberries. It was Sammy who was allergic to them. 

 

***

 

When Dean got reunited with his family, Sammy was already asleep in Daddy’s arms. Daddy looked calm enough, but Dean could see that he was angry and that made his insides squirm. He could feel his heart beating loudly into his ears, but ran to them anyway, terrified of being left behind. Claudia had kept him in the white room for forever, and all he wanted was to go home.

Daddy lead them to the car and drove away as fast as he could, reaching their house in record time. He quietly picked up Sammy, checked that the baby was still asleep, and finally turned to Dean, disappointment clear in his eyes. 

«You go up, take your backpack, and fill it with your clothes. We’re leaving tonight.» Daddy said, cold. Dean froze. 

«Leaving like… like forever?» Dean whispered, completely shocked. They couldn’t leave! He had a math test coming on Monday! He needed to tell Miss Grace! And Doctor Ethan had said he’d need to go back to take the sutures out of his foot! And his bedroom was here, and Sammy’s toys were here, and… Sammy! Sammy needed his nursery and his blankie and his stuffies! He could feel panic rising in his throat and all of a sudden he couldn’t see anything because his eyes were full of tears. 

«Don’t you start crying now! They’re gonna tear us apart, Dean! All those doctors and those fucking social workers, they’re gonna take Sammy away, don’t you get it?! You called them! It’s your fault, so shut your mouth and do what I say!» Daddy yelled, face red. 

«They’re gonna take Sammy? Because of me?» Dean said, voice broken. They couldn’t. He wouldn’t let them. His breath hiccupped, and he felt like he was going crazy.

«For the love of God, Dean, go!» Daddy dismissed him, already starting to pack his clothes into a duffel back; and despite the sobs that still shook him, Dean didn’t know what else to do, so he obeyed. He stumbled up the stairs and filled his school bag with the first things he found in his closet. He tried to think about what he’d need, but there were so many things and so little space. T-shirts, socks, a pair of sweatpants, a toothbrush… And what about his spelling sheets? What about his colouring book? What about his teddy? 

«You better hurry up or I’m leaving without you!» Daddy screamed. Dean could only sob, terrified. He was already running down the stairs when he suddenly stopped. What about Sammy’s things? He raced to the nursery. Daddy had forgotten about Sammy’s blankie, and about his favourite paci! Dean looked down at his backpack, full to bursting. He slowly, slowly got his teddy and his books out. After all, it was all his fault that they needed to leave. He didn’t deserve those anyway. 

 

***

 

Later that night, after hours of driving, Daddy stopped the car in front of a motel. Dean had been silently crying for most of the trip, sucking his thumb even though he knew only babies did that. He felt cold and thirsty and like every bad thing in the world was weighting on his chest, making it harder to breathe. 

Daddy got out of the car, locked it, and then walked into the reception. Dean listened to his footsteps with his eyes closed, too afraid to even look around but terrified that Daddy would disappear if he stopped keeping track of his movements. After what seemed to be hours, Daddy finally got back to take him and Sammy to their room. He picked up the bags and brought them over in front of the door, then came back to take Sammy into his arms. It took him a minute to notice that Dean wasn’t following them. 

«Dean, are you coming or not?» Daddy said, voice firm but without yelling. Dean wanted to, but couldn’t. Not when he felt shaky and queasy and like he’d break down if he dared to move even a little bit. 

«Dean? What…» Daddy said, coming back for him and then stopping in front of the Impala. «Oh, kiddo.» Daddy murmured then. All of a sudden, Dean was being picked up by warm, strong arms. 

«I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have screamed before. That wasn’t right. It’s just that… I was so scared of losing you and your brother that I couldn’t think of anything else.» Daddy said into his hair. Dean just clung to him, too exhausted to do anything else but tremble. 

«I know I’ve been very hard on you, but you have to know that I’ve been doing that for you and Sammy. You two are the best thing I have, Dean. I must protect you, and I can’t do that without making some sacrifices.» Daddy kept on talking. «Sammy’s too young to understand any of what’s happening, but you’re not, Dean. I thought the best for you would be not knowing, but I guess today showed us that I was wrong. You need to know what’s really going on; then, you’ll understand why sometimes I have to be a little harsher, or why what happened today can’t happen ever again.»

 

The next day, Dean learned that his Mommy had been killed by a demon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
>  
> 
> As always, thank you so much for all the kudos and comments. They mean a lot to me, and I'd love to hear even more of your opinion on the story so far. Please let me know if you liked it or if you think I should do something differently. 
> 
> Sadly I won't be able to post for a while, 'cause I'm studying for my exams and the next few weeks are going to be crazy. I hope I'll be back soon though, I'm really enjoying writing this. 
> 
>  
> 
> I hope you all have a nice day. :)


	5. Amicus.

Daddy decided that they wouldn’t stop in one place for a while. There were friends that he needed to see and they all lived in different states, he explained; friends who had answers and would know what to do. So no, Dean wouldn’t be going back to kindergarten anytime soon. They would settle down again once Dean started first grade, Daddy promised.

Dean told him that it was alright, that he understood. He pretended that he never thought about the spelling sheets he’d left on the floor at home, that he didn’t miss his friends and Miss Grace. He paid attention to only cry at night, when no one could hear him. 

 

They started moving around a lot, and every day there were new people to meet. Daddy’s friends were scary and creepy and they always looked down on him like he was the most useless thing in the world. 

«What the hell, John? Did you really have to bring the kids?» 

Dean wanted to scream at them that he was a big boy, that he could help, that it was his Mommy that had been taken away, his, not theirs, so he had to be there. But then, he also wanted to cry and run away and hide forever, so maybe they had a point. 

Daddy never seemed bothered by it, though. «They’re quiet, they’re not gonna interrupt us. Right, Dean?» He always answered, with a voice that was meant to be reassuring but sounded vaguely threatening.

Dean knew it was a test. Every single time, it was a test. Daddy had been testing him a lot since the disastrous day at the hospital, to see if he’d make other mistakes, if he could be trusted again. Dean wanted nothing more than to prove how good he could be. He worked harder and harder every day trying to please everyone around him, and he didn’t mind how difficult it was, because in the end he knew it’d be worth it, seeing pride in Daddy’s eyes again. 

Sammy, on the other hand, didn’t even need to try. At one year old he was the cutest baby in the world. He had big hazel eyes and soft hair that was starting to curl. Not even Daddy’s creepiest friend had nothing to say against him. The ladies especially loved to make him giggle, and cooed whenever he did, talking about how handsome he would grow up to be and how well behaved he was for his age. Sometimes, when that happened, Dean felt a nasty feeling curl up inside his belly, but he tried to forget his bitter thoughts and focused on the fact that it was better that way, because he knew that if a monster tried to take them away, at least Sammy would have people looking out for him. He could accept that nobody really liked him, as long as Sammy was safe.

 

***

 

The first time they actually settled down for more than a couple nights it was on the border between Nebraska and South Dakota, at the beginning of July. Daddy said that there were lots of people like them there, people who would be able to teach them more about demons. 

There was this one man that Daddy really wanted to meet. He said something about shared experiences that Dean didn’t really understand, but he got the fact that this person must be very important. He knew that he had to try his best to be good for him. 

As soon as they arrived at the man’s house, though, Dean started to feel anxious. The outside looked creepy, all dark and gloomy, but the inside was downright terrifying. Everything was dusty and messy and smelled like grown-up drinks, and pictures of horrible things were hanging on every wall. Sammy was sleeping on Daddy’s shoulder, so Dean didn’t have anything to distract himself from the blood and the bodies on display. 

The man himself was scary, too. He approached them with a gun in his hands, and even though he immediately put it away as soon as he actually saw them, Dean’s eyes remained glued to the man’s hands. Big and strong, just like his Daddy’s. They could hurt even without weapons. 

The worst thing was, the man didn’t seem happy to see them. Dean felt like he had already failed when a frightening frown was directed straight to him. He should’ve known. He wasn’t welcome.

«When you said you’d bring your sons along I though you meant your grown-up sons, John!» The man huffed right then. Daddy didn’t even blink, as always reassuring him that they were quiet kids and wouldn’t disturb them. It usually worked; this time, apparently, something was different. 

«That’s not the point! What were you thinking? They can’t stay here, for God’s sake!» The man’s voice was starting to rise, and the shadows in his eyes were enough to send chills running down Dean’s back. As the words sunk in, he felt his face grow hot. He didn’t want to be the reason why Daddy couldn’t stay, but if Daddy’s friend didn’t want him and Sammy there, where would they go? It was a long way back to the motel. Daddy would have to drive them and then come back and that would make him waste a lot of time. Dean was pretty sure that Daddy wouldn’t like it. 

«C’mon, I swear they’re not gonna touch anything, they’re just gonna play in the other room!» Daddy tried to defend them, voice low since Sammy’s ears were right next to his mouth and he didn’t want to wake him. That was one more thing Dean needed to pay attention to, because whenever Sammy was startled awake he was the only one able to make him stop crying. The man was already angry enough, Dean didn’t want to know how he would react if Sammy threw a tantrum. What if he got mad at his little brother? That thought made his stomach feel like it was full of knots. He truly didn’t like the tension that was building in the room. 

«You have to know that’s not what I’m talking about! Going into hunting with two kids? Bringing them along? That’s insane, John!» The man yelled.

«It’s not like I had a choice! I didn’t come here for a lecture, I came here to talk about demons, and who do you think you are to tell me how to raise my boys?» Was the answer. Daddy was starting to get mad, and when Daddy got really mad it never ended up well. The knots in Dean’s stomach started to travel up to his lungs, making it harder to breathe right. His eyes were stinging like crazy and he really, really wanted to hide. 

«Who do I think I am? I’m a hunter, and that’s all I need to be to tell you that you’re out of your mind! That’s no way to grow up! And what do you think will happen to them the day you won’t make it out alive?» 

Dean felt his heart stop. Was the man saying that Daddy was going to die? No, that couldn’t be. His Daddy was a hero, and heroes always won in the end! Of course, Sammy choose that moment to finally wake up with a grumble, immediately starting to cry in earnest. He wasn’t particularly loud, but right then the sound felt deafening. If Daddy died, then Sammy would remain all alone with Dean. They wouldn’t have a home. They would be all alone, monsters looking for them, demons chasing them until they couldn’t run anymore. Everything would be his responsibility and he was not strong enough for that. He would fail, they would take Sammy and hurt him and he would have to listen as Sammy cried and cried and… 

«Kid, hey!» A voice said, coming from up above. «C’mon, it’s alright. We’re not fighting anymore, we’re fine, see?» The same voice kept on talking, this time sounding nearer. Dean’s first instinct was to shy away from it, but then a large hand was placed on the back of his head, and he was startled enough that he forgot about everything else and opened his eyes (with no memory of ever closing them in the first place). The angry man, who didn’t look as angry anymore, was crouching in front of him.

«There you are, kid. Slow down, take a big breath in. Can you do that?» Dean was confused, until he actually managed to focus on his body long enough to notice the tiny hiccups of breath that he was taking in between sobs. He was also hidden under a table, and when had that happened? His brain felt like it was filled with cotton. He tried to listen to the order, though, because orders, too, were tests. 

«That’s good, kid, that’s good.» At the praise, warmth spread all over Dean’s body. He had passed the test. He was good. Maybe the man wouldn’t make him and Sammy leave now. Which reminded him…

«Sammy?» He asked. He tried his best not to sound like he’d been crying, and frantically started to look around. Daddy couldn’t know that he had made a scene! He was supposed to be quiet! 

«Your brother and your Dad are in the other room, they didn’t see anything, alright? Sammy is going back to sleep.» The man soothed, and wow, how could he know what Dean had been thinking about? Maybe he was a mage!

Right then, they both heard Sammy’s voice as the baby whined and called for his brother, followed by Daddy’s imprecations. Dean collected himself and roughly cleaned his face and runny nose on his sleeve. «Gotta help!» He explained, getting up and running to the other room. He could feel the man’s eyes on his back as he took his baby brother from Daddy’s arms and started to bounce him, and weirdly something in the situation reminded him of Doctor Ethan. 

«Shh, Sammy, shh.» He whispered, as his little brother laid his head on Dean’s shoulder and started to suck on his thumb. «No, baby, not your fingers! Daddy, can you get Sammy’s paci please?»

With his paci and a little song, Sammy went back to sleep nice and easy. Dean beamed down at him, finally calm and focused. 

«Do you want to lay him down on a bed?» The man said, all of a sudden. Dean wasn’t really sure if he was talking to him or to Daddy, so he remained silent until Daddy himself answered: «I don’t want to bother you further, I know today didn’t go as planned and maybe it’d be better if we just left.» 

The man shushed him, though. «It’s no bother, the kid’s sleeping. C’mon, we can still have our talk.» Daddy smiled wide at that, and Dean felt like things were finally going in the right direction. He followed the man upstairs, where the rooms were less creepy but dustier. There was this one room with a big bed and a colourful duvet, that didn’t look like it belonged in the house. Getting in felt like entering another dimension.

Dean worked fast, laying Sammy down on his tummy and then building a cage of pillows all around him. The man was still looking at him strangely, so he explained: «It’s ‘cause he rolls around all the time and I don’t want him to fall down!» The final touch was getting out of his warm jacket and covering Sammy’s body with it. 

«I have blankets, you know.» The man said. But Dean knew that Sammy would get scared if he woke up in a new room with nothing familiar around, so he just shrugged and started to walk towards the door. A hand on his shoulder stopped him. 

«You’re very good with him. You take care of him often?» The man asked. Dean shrugged again. «I’m the big brother. It’s my job.» He explained. The man nodded, but looked like he didn’t even know what Dean was talking about. There was something in his eyes that Dean really couldn’t read.

«What’s your name, by the way? All of this and John didn’t even introduce us.» That made Dean light up. Not even one of Daddy’s friends had ever wanted to know his name! He answered with a big smile on his lips, and the man’s face looked weird for a moment, like he was going to smile too but decided not to at the last second.

«That’s a great name! Thank you for telling me. I’m Robert, but you can call me Bobby.»

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! 
> 
> I know it's been almost a month since the last time I uploaded and I'm really sorry for that. I've been incredibly busy with university lately, and on top of that I also managed to get sick. I couldn't even think straight for a while, nevermind write ahaha.  
> However, now I'm finally here with a new chapter! Please let me know what you think of it, as always I'd love to hear your opinion and I'm open to all kinds of suggestions. 
> 
> Have a nice day! :)
> 
> PS: if anyone's wondering, the room where Dean put Sammy to sleep was Bobby and his wife's old bedroom.


	6. Miles.

At the end of July, two things happened. 

The first was that Daddy asked Dean to come sit with him at the kitchen table, because they needed to talk. Daddy said that speaking with Bobby had made him realise that the hunt for the demon that killed Mommy would be a very long one, and that they couldn’t just sit around all day until a new lead came up. So, he had decided that they should learn how to hunt other supernatural creatures too.

«We’re into this already, we might as well save some people while we’re at it.» Was what he said. 

Dean didn’t really know what the consequences would be; however, “saving people” sounded good and noble, like something a superhero would do, and that made all the pieces fall together inside his head, because he’d always believed that Daddy was a hero and now he had proof. He just hoped that Mommy could see that too, from up there in Heaven, because he thought that would make her proud. 

 

The second thing was that Daddy wanted Dean to learn how to shoot a gun. Dean didn’t understand why, at first, but then Daddy explained it to him. Now that they were hunters, they would constantly run into dangerous things. Daddy would try to always be there to protect him and Sammy, but what if something happened and Daddy couldn’t arrive in time? It would be Dean’s responsibility to keep Sammy safe. It was nothing different than what he’d been doing the entire time: looking out for his little brother. That was enough for Dean to be convinced. 

They drove to an abandoned field and Daddy started to align bottles on a fence. Then he got a gun out of his duffel bag and explained how it was supposed to work. He rapidly covered the basics, then put the gun in Dean’s hands. It was heavy, so he had to hold it with both. 

«First rule: guns are not toys. You don’t play with them, you don’t point the muzzle at things you don’t really want to hit. Not at the car, not at me, not at birds… You got it?» Daddy instructed. Dean nodded, tense. 

«Second rule: if I give you a gun, you’re responsible for it. You have to know if it’s loaded or not and you have to know if the safety’s on or if it’s off. It’s your job to keep it clean and to load and unload it. I’ll teach you how to take care of it, but after that, you’ll be the one in charge. Can you tell me what this means?» Dean bit his lower lip, thinking hard. «If I make a mistake it’s my fault. So I… have to be careful?» 

Daddy’s lips formed a thin line on his face. «You’ve got to be much more than careful, boy. You could kill someone, or you could get yourself killed, do you understand?» Dean nodded again, trying to mask how scared he felt, and Daddy’s face softened a bit. 

«Good. Today we’re just going to try this whole thing out. You see those bottles there? I want you to aim at them, looking right here…» Daddy moved behind him, and showed him where to look to be sure he was aiming straight. «C’mon, boy, let’s see the best you can do.»

Dean felt like he’d swallowed bricks instead of toast that morning. What if he failed? What if it turned out he was very bad at this and Daddy realised he couldn’t count on him to protect Sammy? Daddy’s tests were usually pretty subtle, but here he had nothing more than two rules and a goal. He couldn’t miss, he just couldn’t. He kept his eyes pointed to the bottles, not even blinking. He instinctively opened his legs a bit, trying to find a good balance, and then breathed in and pulled the trigger. He was almost too scared to look, but luckily the distant sound of shattering glass was enough to let him know he had made it. 

«That was good. Try again, with all of them.» Daddy said, sounding vaguely amused, and Dean felt so happy that he almost forgot to aim again. But then he got his head together, raised the gun, and shot. One, two, three times. Soon, there were no more bottles on the fence. He looked up at Daddy, and found him smiling. 

«Amazing! You’re a natural, Dean. I’m really proud of you.» Daddy affirmed, taking the gun out of his hands and ruffling his hair. «What do you say we all go get ice cream to celebrate?» 

 

Later on, with chocolate splattered all over his face and a giggly Sammy perched on his lap, Dean thought that he was sure he’d be able to remember that day forever. 

 

***

 

The fear always came at night. 

During the day, Dean was constantly running from one place to the other. There were always new people to meet, difficult, grown-up conversations to listen to, lessons to learn, and more than anything else there was Sammy to take care of. There were diapers to change, food to prepare, long walks along dark rooms to put his little brother to sleep. There were lists to make and things to remember, there were motel rooms that needed to be baby-proofed before Sammy could play in them. 

Sammy’s first word had become two, then three. All the time Dean had spent trying to encourage the baby’s first steps had paid off, as Sammy liked to toddle around and especially loved to follow his big brother wherever he went. He was sleeping less, going from three naps to two, and wanted to play more, which sometimes meant stacking blocks, and other times meant giving Dean an heart attack when he got too near to knives or guns. Those were always laying around now, but Dean knew not to ask questions. 

However, all of that meant that Dean had almost no time to stop and think. The older Sammy got, the harder it was to keep him occupied and happy for the whole day; and now, they didn’t even have a playpen to put him in, so Dean had to remain glued to his side even when he was sleeping. It was easy to work mindlessly, just going through the motions.

At night though, when everything was dark and silent, when Daddy left to go who knows where, Dean always felt panic creeping up on him. 

There were monsters out there. Now he knew. There were werewolves and witches and ghosts and ugly creatures that could take him away forever and eat him alive. Sometimes, if the room was dark enough, it felt like he was already in a monster’s belly, the air wet and sticky around him. 

He couldn’t sleep. Sammy was a warm weight in his arms, curly hair tickling his chin, and he knew that if a demon came right then, like it’d come for his Mommy, he would have to be the one to save his baby brother. Sammy was so little and soft and innocent, not even a shadow of bad in him, and Dean had to protect him but knew in his heart that he couldn’t. Daddy always left because he trusted Dean to be strong, but he felt weak, not good enough. 

There were knives so big they looked like swords in Daddy’s bag. There were shotguns and rifles and water that Daddy said was holy, which meant it made demons go away. Would he be able to fight? If something burst in, would he be able to shoot at it in the same way he was getting used to shoot at bottles and cans? Would he be able to take a knife and slice it up until it was all broken and bloody like the bodies in the pictures Daddy hid in his journal? 

He didn’t want that; so he cried, and between hiccups he prayed to his Mommy in Heaven, prayed that it never came to that because he would fail. Sammy would die and it would be his fault. Daddy would hate him so much, would never want to see him again.

The thought alone almost made him throw up. 

 

But then, in the morning things were always different. Daddy always came back, Sammy always woke up (still safe, still in one piece) as sunlight peeked through the blinds and chased away the shadows from his nightmares. Dean always got up, always cleaned the tear tracks on his face, and then started preparing oatmeal while Sammy toddled behind him and played peek-a-boo from under the kitchen table.

So he always ended up praying again, this time to tell his Mommy that he was sorry for making her worry, that things were not really that bad and that he knew she’d want him to be brave anyway. He told her that he was doing his best and that he would make her proud. Mommy never answered back, but he’d heard somewhere that prayers worked that way, so he didn’t worry about it. He never stopped hoping, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!
> 
> I've had a lot of trouble writing this chapter, because I basically wrote one page in one minute and then I couldn't write anymore for, like, one month. I'm still very busy with university and that's not helping.  
> However, I really hope the final result was worth it. Please let me know if you liked it and please leave a comment to share your opinion on the story so far, because those really inspire me and make me happy.
> 
> I hope you all have an amazing day!
> 
> PS: the story of Dean's first time shooting comes from the episode 2x06 (No Exit) in which he tells Jo about that day. Dean says he was "six or seven" at the time, but in this story he's five and a half when it happens (close enough for me ahaha).

**Author's Note:**

> This story had been inspired by my rage against John Winchester. I know that his parenting choices have been a topic of discussion for years and I wanted to give my opinion on it.
> 
> I think that many people tend to write about John making him act way worse than he actually does in the show, in an attempt to demonstrate his potential to be abusive. 
> 
> I'm taking a different route with this. I want to write about John trying to remain truthful to the show, limiting his actions to what could be considered canon and without ignoring his good intentions, but nevertheless demonstrating how his behaviour still remains toxic and abusive. 
> 
> I'd love to hear your opinion on this, especially if you'll stick with this story and keep reading!


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